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Graduate School of Design' : i i\ 1' Architecture landscape ArchiteCture Urban, Design. and Planning June 30-August 8;1.9$6 , ; , , Winner of Mobil Guide 5 Star Award T ravel-Holiday A ward lrnJrla/eWUUf;1HJ/Wn 9561 East Bay Harbor Drive Bay Harbor, Florida 305-866-8779 Country Casual DESIGNER and DIRECT IMPORTER of fme English garden furmture 16 page catalogue $1 00 SOLID TEAKWOOD. BENCHES. SWINGS. PLANTERS 4 Chippendale II a Country Casual origmal design In solid teakwood Country Casual - NY 17317 Germantown Rd Germantown, Md 20874-2999 (301) 540-0040 and I had not thought anything could be. The play now seems deeper, sad- der, more passIonate, and even funni- er, if that is conceivable. The actors- and what actors!-make clear much that might have been unnoticed before. ^ "The House of Blue Leaves," in case anyone needs reminding, is a satiric farce about a middle-aged zookeeper, named Artie Shaughnessy, who has a knack for writing imitations of cheap popular songs, and who is the victim of a number of American dreams, which finally destroy him. The place is his living room in Sunnyside, Queens; the time is October 4, 1965, the day Pope Paul VI flew to New York to appear before the United Na- tions General Assembly to plead for an end to war-perhaps specifically the war in Vietnam (and perhaps, by blessing Artie's sheet music, to ease his way to Hollywood and an Academy Award ). Artie lives with his wife, who has recently gone mad and is nicknamed Bananas; he wants to put her in a sanitarium (the house of the title), run off to California with Bunny Flingus, his downstairs neigh- bor and mistress, who is eagerly abet- ting him, and then get a job with his best friend, a prominent movie direc- tor. Bananas resists the hospital, be- cause she is terrified of shock treat- ments. As I remarked in my original review, "this play could be considered a whole series of shock treatments, and often I was as horrified at myself for laughing (which I did a lot) as I was at what I heard and saw on the stage." The plot is wild and arbitrary and always outrageous. The other charac- ters are a movie star, deafened by an explosion during the making of her latest picture, who is the director's girlfriend; the Shaughnessys' son, AWOL after twenty-one days in the Army, who arrives with a homemade bomb, his target being the Pope; three goofy nuns, who have been watching the Pope's motorcade from the roof of the Shaughnessys' apartment house; and, finally, the great director himself. The bomb misses the Pope, but it does go off, taking its toll of the assembled company. Guare's marvellous comic writing, in which every word plays, and his ferocious high spirits glow more than ever in these drab days, but the perfor- mance, under the acute, sensitive di- rection of Jerry Zaks, is what makes most of the difference between the first production and this one John Maho- ney, who appeared as the older man in last year's "Orphans," is Artie Shaughnessy to the life, in all his loony optimism and desperation. But the phenomenal Swoosie Kurtz, as Ba- nanas, in every line and monologue changes what might have been a merely pathetic character into a tragic figure, helpless and loving and de- mented, and smarter than anyone around her-all this without sacrific- ing any of the comedy. Stockard Channing is flint-hearted Bunny, and although the caustic tongue of Anne Meara, the original Bunny, is unfor- gettable, Miss Channing, padded to plumpness, makes the part her own from the moment she enters, stuffing strips of newspaper into her plastic boots against the cold and issuing or- ders. Christopher Walken, sporting an impeccable Queens accent, is the movie director. Julie Hagerty is the beautiful movie star trying to conceal her deafness from her admirers. Ev- erybody is good. But the true star is John Guare. The play has been well served by the designers: Tony Wal- ton, who conceived that awful apart- ment; Ann Roth, who created the witty costumes; and Paul Gallo, who devised the lighting. I N "The Eden Cinema," a limp work by Marguerite Duras, at the Har- old Clurman, a middle-aged French widow in Indo-China in the early thirties, having worked as a pianist in a movie house, invests her savings in a parcel of land that becomes a salt marsh at every high tide. There is no resemblance to a play, no dramatic impulse whatever. The script is mostly fractured narrative, spoken in a tone- less manner directly 0 the audience for ninety unbroken minutes. A'S the widow's daughter, whose story is being told and who does most of the talking, lovely Brooke Shields is wasted on this effort; the others may be competent, but there is nothing for them to be competent at. What the late Harold Clurman would have made of this arty nonsense I dread to think. I doubt he would have written even this much about it. - EDITH OLIVER . BLOCK THAT METAPHOR! [From the Washington Times] "He took a chance. He took a shot, and after the dice stopped rolling, he hit a home run," Mr. Ackerman said. . ERADICATION FAILS TO SLOW FIRE ANTS -Memphis Commercial Appeal Makes them think, though.